Chapter 7
Seven
For the last week I’ve spent most of my time curled up in front of my granny’s fire with a book and endless cups of tea.
Aradia dragged me out to one of her yoga classes which was fun but the women in the class put my younger body to shame!
However, doing nothing but rest is just blissful.
I help Aradia in the garden with the vegetables, and she’s actually taught me quite a bit on how to grow from seed successfully.
Putting it into practice is another thing though.
My granny tries to teach me to bake, but both times my cakes don’t rise and look more charred than baked.
But it’s been nice to try new things, right?
I haven’t bumped into Sam since our meeting at the cafe.
But he has been appearing a lot in my dreams. I wake up in a hot sweat thinking about his hands over my skin, my fingertips messing up his already messy dark hair, our breathing in tandem.
It’s different to my usual dark dreams which is a nice break.
I wake again after dreaming about him, my pulse racing and my body aching for his touch. Maybe it’s the big hands that are doing it for me. Or the fact my fiancé cheated on me and it’s been a while since… well, you know. I’m only human.
I sit up to see Nettle curled up at the end of the bed. I give him a stroke, and he begins to purr. Nettle is a scraggy old thing but he’s very loving. He’s been a good little foot warmer while I’ve been staying here.
The familiar sound of Granny making breakfast brings me to my feet and down the stairs. Granny is placing some toast at the table and Aradia is sat at her laptop.
A pan on the Aga filled with porridge is being stirred by a wooden spoon on its own.
I stare at it for a moment absolutely mesmerised that this is happening in front of me.
In the last week Granny has given up trying to hide her powers from me.
Lights are turned on by clicks of fingers and I’ve seen the floor cleaned by a broom by itself.
It still amazes me, but I’m not as freaked out anymore. It’s become sort of normal.
“Harri.” Aradia brings me out of the trance as I join them at the table. She lifts her head from the laptop. “Remember it’s the harvest market this morning. I could use your help to pick as much as we can to sell. We get people from all the other villages come to visit.”
“Yeah, of course. It’ll be nice to come out and see people. I’ve become a bit too comfortable with my own company and not leaving your gorgeous cottage.” It really is gorgeous. It’s a home. Something that you read about in fairytales.
“And remember you can stay as long as you like, sweetheart.” Granny strokes my hair as she pours juice into my glass. Granny babies me for sure, and I kind of love it.
“Sam will be there.” Aradia smirks.
My face feels warm at the mention of his name. “Oh, that’s nice,” I say emotionless, not letting her get the best of me.
Aradia raises her eyebrow, not happy with my downplayed reaction. But she knows. She smiles to herself as if she knows the mention of his name has got to me. She grabs a slice of toast and returns to looking at her laptop.
After breakfast I help Aradia and Granny pick vegetables to sell at the market.
They tell me how this has been a tradition for years in Brindlewood where everyone brings things they have grown, made, hunted or baked to sell at the harvest market ready for winter.
We pack crates with an array of vegetables until the garden starts to look bare.
We pack them into Aradia’s banged-up Beetle and make our way to the village green.
Tables are set out around the green with bunting decorating them and the sign in the middle.
Gloria is setting up her table outside of The Wandering Wisp with plenty of cakes, pies and pasties to fill hungry tummies.
Other stalls are being filled with all different wares.
A lady selling handmade cushions and blankets is busy laying them out ready for customers to look through.
An older gentleman is putting out second-hand books in genre order.
I make a mental note to definitely go back and see what he has later.
Aradia and I find our assigned table and begin setting up. Along with the vegetables we have jars and jars of homemade teas my granny makes, each labelled with their intended purpose. Relax, invigorate, sleep and romance.
I pick up the romance one and try to make out what herbs and spices are used. I can pick out rose petals and cloves but the rest I’m not entirely certain.
“Romance? What does that do?” I ask, still studying the jar and its contents.
“It’s a love potion.” She smiles amorously.
“A potion?” I whisper in panic. “You make potions?”
“Mum does,” she says, casually picking up a jar herself.
“Shouldn’t you, like, warn people? Surely, they’ll all be falling in love with each other?” I say in a fluster.
She laughs. “It’s a weak version and will only work on those whose intentions are pure and reciprocal.”
“So, if someone likes someone and they like them back, it just gives them a push?” I feel calmer knowing that.
“Yeah, basically.” She pops both of the jars down.
“Oh, OK, I thought you said you’re not like Halloween witches. You really are, you know.” I laugh.
Aradia pulls a face of disgust at me then turns it into a Cheshire cat smile. “Maybe you could make a cup for Sam?”
“I don’t know him, Aradia, stop.” I blush.
“He’s been visiting your dreams though, hasn’t he?” Her eyebrow is raised, hand on hip.
I’m stood frozen, embarrassed and annoyed at her. I’m learning that I can’t escape my aunt. She really does know everything about everyone. She senses my frustration.
“Don’t be embarrassed.” She carries on sorting through her stock. “I just sensed he’s been on your mind. He’s a good-looking boy, so I don’t blame you, Harri.”
I give her the look, a look she is now getting accustomed to, so she puts her hands up in defeat.
“I’m sorry, OK? I’m just teasing. I’ll stop invading your mind.” She wiggles her fingers towards me.
“Please do! I don’t know what my power is yet, but it could be something like turning people to stone, so be careful.” I give her a playful scowl.
She holds her hands up. “OK, OK, Medusa.” She laughs which makes me laugh too. I know she doesn’t mean anything by it. And it is true. I’ve been thinking of Sam.
We spend the morning non-stop selling all the vegetables we picked fresh that morning. Granny’s tea is also a big hit with punters. Towards lunchtime our stall is looking more than half empty.
“Why don’t you go and have a look around?” Aradia suggests. “Grab some of Gloria’s cakes before they all go, so we can have some for supper.”
“Sure. I’ve had my eye on a blanket over on that lady’s stall as well.” I point to the woman I had seen earlier setting out her cushions and blankets.
“That’s Hannah. She makes so many lovely things with her sewing machine! She lives in the cottage next to the village hall with her sons and wife Lois. Really sweet family. Hannah is the village child minder. Not as a job. She is just made to be a mother so they all flock to hers.”
I walk over to Hannah’s stall. She is sharing out a bag of sweets between two little boys who have made a den under her table.
She notices me looking at her blankets that she has quilted and crocheted.
There’s a jade green silk quilt made from a Japanese print of a cherry blossom garden which I had seen from across the green.
“This is beautiful,” I remark stroking the silk between my fingertips.
“Thank you.” She smiles. “I have to be honest, it’s one of my favourites that I’ve made. The material is actually imported from Japan. Well, the lady at the fabric shop told me it is.”
“Wow, it is incredible. I’ve been staring at it all day. I don’t think I’m going to be able to go without it. Do you have a bag? I don’t want to spoil it.”
“Wise choice.” She nods and begins to wrap it up. “I haven’t seen you around here before. Have you moved here recently?” She pushes her blonde hair behind her ear while she looks for another bag.
“I’m visiting my family, Aradia and Cerci Chattox?”
“Ah, that’s lovely. Gosh, those two are just such sweethearts. When my Alfie was really poorly, Cerci made some soup, and I swear it was magic. My poor boy was suffering with the most awful pneumonia. Had some of Cerci’s soup and the next morning he was a different child.”
“Well, she is a good cook.” I feel nervous like I’m going to shout out, “That’s because she’s a witch,” but I don’t. Obviously. And Hannah seems happy with my response. She places my new buy in a paper bag, and I give her the money.
“Thank you.” I smile.
“You’re welcome. Maybe see you around if you’re staying a while!” She smiles then tends to one of her boys who is wiping his sticky hands on the tablecloth.
I carry on walking around the stalls. I can’t help but think about what Hannah said about the soup my own granny had made. I think these women are more capable than they are letting on.
I bump into a table while lost in thought. I knock over a case of cured sausages and cheese.
“I’m so sorry.” I crouch down to pick them up.
“No, it’s fine, let me.” A familiar voice soothes over me followed by a large shadow which envelops me. I look up to see those large green eyes that have been visiting me in my dreams. Sam’s hand brushes mine as he picks up the fallen produce. Electricity tingles my fingers.
“I’m so clumsy. I really am sorry,” I say, looking up at him.
“It’s fine, no harm done, but are you OK? It looked like a nasty bump.”
“It’ll just be a bruise to the hip. Honestly, I’m forever bumping into things.”
“You should be more careful.” He brushes my hip with his hands making sure I’m OK. It sends the electricity down to my thighs.
“I should,” I whisper shakily.
He smirks and the dimples on his cheeks show themselves.
“I’m glad you bumped into me by the way.” His gestures to me with his hands.
“You are?” I ask surprised, blushing.